Rising High
by Emerale
Summary: It's the year 1089, the medieval throne has been conquered by the rebels of Forks. Edward Cullen, once a scared orphaned boy is the leader of said rebellion and now Forks new King. He wants revenge for his parents deaths. Isabella Swan, sister of the murderer finds herself as a pawn in a game of chess between the new King and her brother... and Edwards the one saying Checkmate. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Heya guys!**

 **New story here, and as it turns out, also my first story on Fanfiction :O... So I would really, really appreciate some feedback.**

 **Some things that I really think will help you understand the story:**

• **This story is set in the past in another, separate world. The life and culture of that kingdom would be similar to the life and culture of the medieval era; however, that kingdom won't be England. England does not exist in that world, but Forks sure does ;)**

• **I know in the books Forks is meant to be a small town; however, in this FF, Forks is a huge Kingdom.**

 **Also, since I'm a new author, please don't leave flames. Constructive criticism is always welcome though.**

 **UPDATE: I have an AMAZING beta now** **keeper of logolepsy** **who the way has turned this chapter into something distinguishable now and I'm so thankful for her help, so guys just please bare with me if the quality of the other chapters isn't as good as the one of this one. We're gonna get it back on track!**

 **And lastly, thank you all so much for taking time to look at this story. I hope you enjoy it!**

 **Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all Twilight characters. I'm just playing with them :)**

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 _If you prick us, do we not bleed?_

 _If you tickle us, do we not laugh?_

 _If you poison us, do we not die?_

 _And if you wrong us, do we not revenge?_

 _~William Shakespeare_

 _Chapter 1_

 _Forks_

This day could not get any worse, Isabella thought. Not only was she stuck inside on such a glorious afternoon, but she was also with her _favorite_ person.

"Keep your back straight," Jane curtly ordered as she circled Isabella in a patronising and almost degrading manner. The older woman with her neatly knotted hair and sharp, beady eyes looked at Isabella as if she, too, would rather be anywhere else but with her. Well, at least their feelings were mutual.

"And stop sighing. It is not proper," she scolded with a scowl marring her face.

Isabella had just about had enough. How dare Emmett make her go through these lessons when she could be outside under layers of heat and light, riding her beautiful white mare, Win. Instead, she was stuck in a dark, gloomy room with a nightmare of a governess, learning how to be a 'lady'.

Isabella snorted. She didn't possess a single bone in her body that could allow her behaviour to pass off as ladylike. However, she was in fact a lady and a highborn one at that. Being born to one of the wealthiest barons in Forks certainly had its perks, but those hadn't lasted very long.

 _Oh, the pain of being blue blooded!_ Isabella thought ironically. Her short seventeen years had been filled with nothing but sorrow and loneliness, and it didn't seem as if things were going to change at this rate. She shook off the depressing thoughts and was seconds away from excusing herself when she caught the other woman's eyes.

They were murderous. Her square jaw was tightly clenched, and her chubby hands were in fists by her sides. "Did you just snort?" Jane questioned with narrowed eyes.

Oh dear, she was going to get it now. It took Isabella all her restraints to not groan out loud. _Lord have mercy!_ Fortunately, a knock on the door saved Isabella from an inevitably long lecture.

The door slowly opened to show the face of a young serving girl maybe a few years older than herself. The girl tentatively stepped inside the room. Instantly, her eyes darted towards Jane as she nervously spoke.

"My humblest a-a-apologies, my Lady... Mi'lord d-demands your p-presence in the dining hall immediately."

With a quick curtsy, the girl was out of the room before Isabella could ask any further questions.

She let out a sigh of relief. It seemed that her pleas had finally been heard. Isabella didn't wait for a response and was hot on the wench's heels before Jane could protest.

Isabella wondered why her brother had demanded her presence. _Was something wrong_ , she thought as she descended the many stairs of her stone keep. _Was someone hurt?_ Or worse...

Her mind started racing with endless possibilities of what could have happened. Her steps became quicker as her palms became slick with sweat.

Never had her brother, Lord Emmett Swan, the King's most trusted Baron, asked for her presence. She knew why, too. She was only a sister- a nuisance and a tool that Emmett would much rather get rid of than keep. After all, hadn't he said so himself? Hadn't he made it clear that Isabella was always going to be his inferior?

After losing countless battles of her will against his iron fists, Isabella had finally learnt the lesson that Emmett had been so bent on teaching; every time she walked away the loser, the one defeated-the one who walked away with a rainbow of bruises and a wounded pride.

Setting her thoughts aside, Isabella picked up her skirts and nearly ran towards the dining hall eager to make sure she did not keep Emmett waiting longer than his limited patience might allow. She felt both dread and nervousness at the same time. She wasn't quite sure which overruled her at that moment.

Isabella didn't allow herself to slow down until she reached her destination. Upon arrival, she pushed open the intricately carved oak doors of her magnificent dining hall and walked inside.

Her eyes instantly darted towards the rear end of the hall to where her brother was sitting at the head of their long, rectangular table that had been there for a far longer time than she could remember. Emmett still wore his sparkling silver armour that shone brightly enough to easily blind one if he or she stared too long. An equally sparkling goblet rested in one of his hands, no doubt filled with the village's best wine.

Isabella suddenly looked away, afraid that her staring might get her into trouble with the man who, most times, seemed to abhor her very existence. Unfortunately, Emmett chose that precise moment to lift his eyes away from his goblet, catching Isabella's in the process. It was as if the visual contact unlocked the door which had been her mouth. Everything rushed out at once.

"What's going on? Is-s someone hurt? Are we safe?" She blurted, the questions pouring out of her uncontrollably. Her eyes were wide and anxious whilst her heart drummed a quick patterned beat. "Where is everyone? Emmett? Where-" She was harshly interrupted before she could finish her question.

"It's my Lord to you, not Emmett. Where are your manners, Isabella?" Emmett barked, causing Isabella to instantly freeze. His voice was loud and strong. Cruel, too, but above all, his voice was simply Emmett. So very Emmett.

There was so much a person could tell from someone's tone. More so than one could tell from context or expressions. Isabella knew her brother wasn't questioning her-no matter what it may have seemed to others-but was in fact threatening her; and, she knew better than to disobey.

Although Emmett didn't wear an expression, she knew he was furious. He was always furious; it seemed to be his only state of mind around her. Had his two trusted companions, Sir William and Sir Duncan, not been standing on either side of him, Isabella was sure she would have both seen and _felt_ her brother's fury physically. The two men had been alongside Emmett for as long as she could remember, and, she was always thankful for their presence. Lord knew how many times they had unconsciously saved her hide.

"Come here, Isabella. I have some news to discuss with you," Emmett commanded, his face contracting into an unattractive frown as if the mere idea of actually talking with his sister repulsed him.

Isabella moved along the length of the room towards her brother. The quiet pitter patter of her footsteps on the stone floor, echoing through the hall was the only sound that could be heard as she moved ever closer to the being for whom she held much hate. The old stone keep suddenly seemed jeeringly quiet as if the building itself were anticipating something.

Isabella came to a halt three meters away from where 'his majesty' sat. She kept her eyes obediently trained to the beautifully crafted rock beneath her feet, an action she loathed as she was sure it made her look vulnerable and weak- neither of which she prided herself to be.

A loud throaty cough from Emmett made her jerk her head in his direction. He glanced at Isabella and then at the chair situated directly in front of her, signalling for her to sit down. She pulled out the chair on his right and quickly abided his order, making sure to smooth out her skirts in the process. After a moment or two, she neatly folded her hands in her lap, lifting her eyes to stare directly at Emmett as she waited for him to speak.

He spoke, "Now, normally, Isabella, I would not concern you with the ongoing of the court or discuss critical political issues with you as I understand that you, and all other women alike, are unable to comprehend the complexity of such issues. However, in this case, I have no choice." As he let out an aggravated sigh of resignation, Isabella found herself wishing that it had been a sigh of pain.

 _Who is he to judge what I can and cannot understand?_ Isabella thought furiously.

Emmett, unaware of his sister's building temper, took a large gulp from his silver goblet. Then, without hesitation, he fixated her with his gaze and let her hear the unexpected, shocking news.

"Our king is dead."

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 **So what do you guys think will happen next? Don't forget to drop a review!**

 **Thank you so much for your time :)**

 **-Emerale**


	2. Chapter 2

**Enjoy! :)**

 **Beta-ed by keeper of logolepsy  who made this chapter actually understandable.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.**

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Isabella gasped in outrage. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. And one could not blame her, for it wasn't everyday you heard the most powerful man in the kingdom, the King himself, had been subjected to death.

"As of yesterday's morrow, Forks was seized by a group of outlaws. Invaders. Rebels. Barbarians really, but the thing about this...group is that it isn't made up of ten men or twenty or even a hundred men, Isabella. In fact, it isn't a group at all but a legion. A bloody army!" Emmett shouted, his face darkened in anger.

"With thousands of soldiers that I hadn't even known existed under his command, that bastard Cullen has succeeded in overthrowing Aro." Emmett stopped and took another gulp out of his goblet, and then with a swing of his arm, he motioned for her to refill it.

Isabella complied and grabbed hold of the jug in front of her with cold, pale fingers, her body seemingly still in shock from the horrific revelation.

"Cullen's army is so bloody large that it is not possible to overthrow him- not unless all soldiers in the surrounding lands are united into one army. With all the feuds that have been going on recently, it's damn unlikely the Lords or their men are going to be agreeable even if it is the only salvation to prevent the ruin of Forks."

Isabella didn't know where this one-sided-conversation was going but kept listening attentively, determined to learn as much of the situation as she could from Emmett. As he'd never shared any sort of developments of the kingdom or its tragedies with her before, Isabella was extremely puzzled and curious as to the possible motive her brother had in telling her all of this. Granted this wasn't an ordinary development, she couldn't help but feel that Emmett wanted something from her… Why else would he tell her all this? But, what could it possibly be? For what could, a young woman of her age possibly do in this situation that would provide aid?

A thought that first came to mind was perhaps marriage. That's what women were most often used for-to create alliances which could help to end a feud between lands, thereby creating a larger army; but, as Emmett had said, there still wouldn't be enough soldiers to defeat the usurper's army. So, what could her brother possibly want from her?

Emmett's next words only served to increase the dread within her that had been steadily rising since his initial announcement of King Aro's demise, and the possible ramifications of these words made her even more cautious than before.

"That is where I come in. I have worked for Aro for years-decades now-and, if anyone deserves the crown, it's me," Emmett snarled. "Me, not Edward Cullen. Damn it! Me! So come the morrow, I'm going to make sure I take back what rightfully should be mine. I'll set off towards court in the early hours of day, and at dusk when I reach the royal castle... I shall declare war," he finished, violently smacking the table.

Isabella flinched. Whether it had been his words that had caused her reaction or his aggressive actions, she wasn't sure, but of one matter she was certain: Emmett was pining on a fool's hope. He, himself, had just said moments before that his army would stand no chance against the one belonging to Edward Cullen; so, what could he possibly be thinking in meaning to send his own soldiers to what would be certain death?

Emmett began voicing Isabella's own thoughts. "But of course there shan't be a real war, Isabella. For if that were to happen, my small army would be crushed; and, as I said before, there is high risk in going to battle against an army of unknown outlaws. To have succeeded in dethroning the king, these criminals and mercenaries must indeed be highly skilled and trained in the art of war and killing. No, this war I'm proposing is going to be nothing more than a facade, a distraction. For the real war shall occur inside Cullen's castle. And that is where you, my dear, come in," Emmett finished, his mouth curving into a sly smile.

Isabella snapped her gaze towards Emmett.

"What?" she breathed in fearful confusion. Isabella was suddenly more afraid of her brother than anyone else in the world.

 _What has he planned?_ Anxiety, now a large piece of lead, sank deep into her core. Whatever was about to happen would not end well for her. Oh, not at all.

Emmett pointed at her. "You Isabella, are my secret weapon," he declared. "For it shall be you, who will be fighting this war for me. You'll be going-"

"W-what are you-u-u talking..." Isabella stuttered, unable to keep her voice from shaking.

Emmett continued, ignoring her protest. "With us to Court. Upon arrival, you'll be smuggled into his castle under the guise of a helpless maiden. Fear not; this shall all happen under the dark cover of night, so Cullen shall never see your face until you finish the job."

"What job?" She asked faintly, dazed in disbelief.

"Oh my dear... Cullen's assassination of course," Emmett replied with an easiness one might hear when giving a servant a simple order.

Isabella sat silently stunned. All her life, Emmett had made it abundantly clear that she was incapable of anything that might require strategy or making difficult decisions in complex situations. He had never asked her help, believing her incompetent.

 _And, now, he wants me to kill the man who slayed our king?_

Isabella felt sick. Nausea bubbled in the pit of her stomach, and for a second she feared she'd actually vomit. The feeling didn't last long though, for suddenly she was overcome with such rage that she could barely see straight.

 _This monster...this spiteful pig!_

How dare he give her such an inhumane command! How dare he think to use her like a spineless puppet! Like she was a cheap straw doll to be played with and then discarded when once he gotten what he wanted! Isabella fumed. While she wasn't ignorant or naïve towards the ways of war, the prospect of killing another human-no matter who it was- sickened her; just thinking about such things deepened the feeling of nausea.

And, what of her own well-being? The man her brother was asking her to murder was leading an army of men, whom Emmett himself had moments ago described as "highly skilled and trained in the art of war and killing." From what she had heard, it seemed that Edward Cullen was a criminal who would, without hesitation, strike down those who posed a threat to him. If he was to discover her true identity and the reasons behind her being in his castle, he might very well kill her in retribution.

Isabella grit her teeth until her jaw hurt from the pressure. Never did she think Emmett would stoop so low. She was his sister, for God's sake!

Her distress got the better of her, and before she could think better of it, she was up on her feet and glaring at her brother.

"I won't do it," she cried out, her hands clenched into tight fists at her side. "I won't be a puppet in this deadly game of yours! If you wish to kill someone, order one of your soldiers to do it; or better yet, do it yourself!" She bit out. "Risk your own life if you want the crown that much, but _I_ will have no part in this!" she finished, firmly slashing her arm in emphasis.

Without waiting to see Emmett's reaction, Isabella turned and started towards the doors. She hadn't even managed two steps when she felt the strong, harsh grip of her brother's hand on her arm.

"William. Duncan. Both of you... Out!" Emmett ordered.

She watched the pair walk away from her inaudibly, whilst she tried to come to grips with what Emmett had outrageously demanded of her. Gaining control of the storm of emotions raging inside of her was so very difficult since she felt so much. For one, she felt anger as she never had before. She tried to hold on to that anger so as not to be overcome by the other emotion quickly rising inside of her.

Terror.

Had it been anyone apart from Emmett who had said such a thing to her, she would have laughed, thinking it a jest, but her brother did not joke; and, not for a second did she doubt what he had said.

A light thud told her that the soldiers had left the hall and that they had closed the door firmly shut behind them.

She was now all alone with Emmett.

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 **Thank you for your time. Please drop a review down below for how you think the story is going so far.**

 **-Emerale**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's is the edited version of chapter 3, again thanks to my beta!**

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Chapter 3

Seconds after the door shut close, Emmett pushed her away from him and onto the floor- his brotherly facade now gone.

Feeling incredibly vulnerable in her current position, Isabella quickly rolled on to her back and leaned onto the back of her forearms. In the next split second Emmett crouched down in front of her and grabbed her jaw with one rough hand, forcing her to look straight into his eyes.

And they were murderous. His lightly bearded jaw was tightly clenched and his eyes were narrowed into two thin slits. She stared back, unflinching; daring him to say something. Then he grinned. And then she _did_ flinch.

She tried getting away from him by pushing hard against his shoulders as she struggled in the earnest to dislodge her jaw from his vice like hold. Because how she saw it, was that a grinning Emmett was even more dangerous than a scowling one.

His grip didn't give.

His eyes held hers whilst he whistled slowly, as if impressed by her sudden courage. "Oh isn't that _precious,_ my dear." He mocked, his mouth curling into an arrogant smirk. Isabella wasn't fooled by his calculated grin, or his playful tone, for she knew he was brimming with rage. Just as she was -except her anger was laced with equal parts fear; a combination she was sure _he_ had never felt.

Feeling threatened by his easy-go attitude, she blurted, "move away-y Emmett, You-u miserable-e-." She stopped. The pressure on her jaw had become alarmingly high, preventing further speech. She glared at Emmett with pure unadulterated hate. Her eyes shot him daggers because her mouth was unable to.

He slowly lightened his grip before letting completely go of her jaw. He didn't stop touching her, however. He feathered the same hand down till he reached the sensitive junction between her shoulder and neck. He carefully moved a stray piece of hair which had escaped its confine and then gently collared her neck with both of his hands.

"Now, now Isabella. Such language. I'd say your manners have worsened since the last time we had a... _chat_." He chucked darkly.

"Seems like I'll have to have a word with your governess after our return. After all... Such a mouth would be completely unacceptable on the _King's sister_ , right?" He lightly scolded, his words accompanied by a light squeeze to her neck.

Her head swam with doubts; she didn't understand what Emmett was up to. He was playing with her; that much she had gathered, yet she was oblivious to his true motive. Before she could further accumulate on his actions, she felt a sudden shift in him.

"I understand why you're angry Isabella, I too find the involvement of a women in this scheme quite distasteful. You know, what will Forks say when they find that a... a _women_ defeated the king? A women saved the entire kingdom? No one will be caring about what _I_ did. Or what my men did." Emmett began.

"Believe me when I say, for my own sake, if there was another way to save Forks, I would have chosen it. But it has to be a women, for I'm certain none of my men, nor I, shall be granted entry within the castle walls. Even if we somehow miraculously succeeded with that, we would have had been watched the entire length of the stay. A women, however would not have been so rigorously targeted." He explained.

Emmett still had his good-guy mask on, yet his tone had become slightly harder, slightly more threatening. "I applaud you for your bravery Isabella, I really do. But I think you forget who the Lord here is. Yes, that's right; it's _me_. Who provides for your food? Who provides your shelter and your safety? Me right? _So who's orders do you follow, Isabella?"_ He cooed condescendingly, applying more pressure to her neck.

Her breaths came out in short, loud gasps as Emmett's hold on her increased. _He means to choke me!_ She thought frantically. Her hands instantly going around his much bigger, much stronger ones as she tried to pull them away from her constricting airway.

" _Mine_. You follow my rules, my decisions and _my. Damn. Orders."_ He hissed, punctuating each word with further tightening his grip.

"No! No, no... Stop! I can... can't breathe!" She wheezed out, desperate for more air.

He didn't let up. Bent on teaching her a lesson as he was, she doubted even the devil could have made him stop until he wanted too. A small part of her whispered that it was her own fault she was in this situation, for she had known Emmett's control had been slipping yet she still taunted him. She had known all along that the outcome of her rebelling wasn't going to be pretty yet she hadn't been afraid _then_. She sure as hell was now.

The bigger, and the more stubborn part of her however, protested against her analysis; refusing to believe her current situation was her own fault. _He had ordered you to commit murder! How else were you meant to react?_ Stubborn her shouted and Isabella reluctantly felt herself agree.

She felt her vision blur and large black spots appear in front of her eyes. She was going to blackout. All of a sudden the vice-tight pressure on her neck disappeared and she was once again able to breathe.

She coughed in one lung full of air after another causing her body to shake with the violent motions. A traitorous tear leak from behind her tightly shut lashes and trailed down to her bruised jaw. She quickly swiped her hand across her cheek, hoping Emmett hadn't seen her. In the seventeen dreadful years she had known him, not once had she cried in front of him. Not through their many 'chats' or even when her mama and papa had passed away. Of course, she had in fact cried at both times. But that had been in her safe haven; inside her chamber walls. She had understood and feared that he'd use her emotions to get the better of her. She didn't want to give him power than he already had.

Isabella felt Emmett's gaze scan her weak frame with forged sympathy. Breathless and terrified as she was, she still refused to be the source of his amusement. _She wasn't a puppy!_ She tried her hardest to appear calm and composed, so she could make him believe that he hadn't rattled her; make _herself_ believe the same too. She was sure she failed.

"Learn the damn lesson Isabella," he stated. "You better be here at first light tomorrow, for if you're not... you'll deeply regret it. That, love, is something I can promise you."

With a meaningful glance in her direction, he pushed himself of the table and turned to leave the room. After a few steps he suddenly stopped and pivoted until he was once again facing her. She did not hesitate to throw him a glare. That he ignored.

"And understand this Isabella: it is your _duty_ to help me succeed in all ways possible in life. I want power. I want Forks. And you are going to help me get it. First light, Isabella," he warned again. He turned and continued to march out of the room, slamming the doors on his way.

As soon as he left, she let herself worry. What was she going to do now? Could she even get out of this mess? Isabella fretted as she rose from the floor and made her way back towards her chamber. Her steps away from the dinner hall were vastly different from what her steps had been on her way to it.

Once she reached her chamber, she quickly snuck inside and locked the door. With a grimace of pain, she walked towards her bed and flopped down on her mattress. Her desperate struggle along with the abundance of fear she had felt had left her emotionally drained. Frail and feeble. _Cowardly_. Her head felt heavy, like it had an entire empire piled on top of it; stuffed inside it. She was unable to comprehend what Emmett had just done, what he'd nearly done. Never had she feared him as she had done then. Never had he made her loath him so much either. Resentment and trepidation laced within her.

That night she dreamt about a knight in a shining armour... one that was coming to save her.

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 **So... how does it sound so far? The last line isn't a cliche mind you, its just very ironic...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys, this is the edited version of the chapter. Enjoy!**

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 _Chapter 4_

Isabella woke up to the chilling winter night. It was still pitch black, and from what she could hear -or rather _couldn't_ hear- she assumed it was little past midnight.

The keep and all its inhabitants had managed to settle down for the night to rest as they awaited the fresh opportune start the morrow would hopefully bestow upon them.

Isabella, however, couldn't be so optimistic, as what awaited her at first light would be akin to her funeral. For she had yet to discover how she could remove herself from Emmett's scheme; she only knew that she must even if it meant losing everything precious to her. She'd rather give up all her earthly possessions-even the safety and shelter of her home- than her humanity. For to take the life of another human being for any reason but self-defense would be equal to selling away her soul.

With a tired sigh, she untangled herself from her bedspread and stumbled over to her basin. She quickly wiped her face with a cool rag, shooting a glance at the mirror.

The girl that stared back was a different girl. Although she had long brown hair which fell down to her waist and brown eyes identical to Isabella's, that girl wasn't her. Eyes once bright with hope and optimism were now dull, clouding the rest of her face into one of despondency.

Isabella slowly shut her eyes and inhaled a deep breath.

Tendrils of wind weaved through her hair in an intricate pattern, and for a second she allowed the wind to steal away all her worries; let the breeze carrying away all thoughts out the open window into the wide open sky of night.

 _Wait._

No.

The windows could not be open.

 _They were locked shut every night._

Her eyes shot open just as she felt a hand wrap tightly around her mouth.

Once exhausted brown eyes now widened in disbelief.

 _This is not happening, this is not happening!_ She chanted to herself _,_ hoping, praying that if she said it enough times it would become true _._

It didn't.

A second later, she startled into action _._ She began to scream against the hand that muffled her mouth and kick with all that she was to no avail for the hold on her arms was too strong for her to struggle out of.

In the next moment, her sense of sight was robbed as well. A strip of cloth had been tied in front of her eyes, effectively blocking her vision. In that moment she felt like a young child, unable to help what was happening to her. It made her feel vulnerable and small next to the intruder, who she knew was a man. That much was clear; the hands that grabbed her were too big, too rough to belong to a women.

For a moment, Isabella thought she might faint. There had been too many surprises today; too many bad ones. She didn't think she could handle another one. Determined not to allow this encounter to end as her earlier one with Emmett had, she shook off her momentary resignation, prepared to do any thing in her power to escape.

Seeing no other way to free herself, she opened her mouth as wide as she could and clamped her teeth shut tightly on the hand still covering it.

The man instantly let go, cursing under his breath.

Isabella didn't waste any time. She bolted away from the man towards the opposite end of her chamber. It was the furthest she could get away from him in the confined space.

Quickly pulling off her blindfold, she grabbed the closest thing to her- a vase- and held it up as one would a dagger. She paused momentarily, allowing her eyes to adjust to the scene before her.

There, in front of Isabella, stood a young man. She didn't think he could be any older than twenty and five summers. His head was bent low, but even like that, he appeared a giant in comparison to her slight, delicate build.

As if he knew she was studying him, his head shot up, looking her dead in the eye.

She almost dropped her vase.

However, this near mistake was not made out of fear, in surrender, or any other _rational_ reason.

Rather, Isabella was struck by the unforeseen beauty of the man in front of her. He was not beautiful in the delicate, feminine way one might describe a butterfly or a rose as but in the striking, mesmerizing way one might find alluring if his or her gaze landed upon a wild tiger.

Isabella couldn't look away.

He had a strong, prominent jaw which looked as if it had been carved out of granite. His long straight nose emphasized his rugged face, making it seem even more masculine. A pair of striking green eyes were surrounded by long, dark eyelashes that would make any woman envious. His hair was a light auburn, almost copper in shade which ended just below his ears and, his full lips were curved into...

... _a smirk?_

Isabella gasped and took a sudden step back, snapping out of her daze. She suddenly became very afraid again. The smirk was too familiar, reminding her too much of the one her brother had been wearing earlier. The entire situation was too similar. She had thought for a moment she had found her bearings only to have her feet swept out from under yet again.

With the arrogant smile still in place, he began marching towards Isabella, his long legs covering the distance in mere seconds.

"S-stay b-back!" Isabella shouted and hoped the tremble in her voice didn't give away just how terrified she was.

When the man didn't stop, she took the vase that was still clutched in her hands and chucked it towards his head.

The man ducked, and the vase crashed into the floor with a loud crash.

He was nearly onto her now.

With a determined expression, he reached for her arms with both his hands; however, just as he was about to clasp her arms, Isabella, taking advantage of her smaller stature, side stepped under his arm and ran towards the door.

A scream bubbled inside her throat. She wanted to let it out, but she couldn't. It was as if fear had crawled up her body, finding home around her neck like a noose, holding her voice in a choking hold.

She was almost across her chamber when she tripped over the hem of her skirts, landing on her front.

Knowing this mistake may cause her dearly, she wasted no time attempting to right it; however, as she made to rise, a heavy weight landed on her shoulder as a strip of fabric was shoved between her lips.

The man hovered over Isabella's form, and swiftly tied the fabric behind her head.

Before she could begin to gather her bearings, she found herself flipped over on to her back.

Isabella stared at the beautiful evil man above her with eyes wide frightened eyes, emptying all her emotions to him. Her breaths came out in short, panicked gasps; she felt as if she couldn't breathe fast enough.

He took hold of her hands and, with one strong pull, hauled her to her feet, keeping her hands in the steel grip of his own.

Standing so close to him, she felt dwarfed by his size. At her full length she came just below his broad shoulders. Although it was dim in her chambers, Isabella could still see that the man had a very strong build. From his biceps to his thighs, there wasn't an inch of fat that was to be seen.

His intimidating height and strength only added to her rising panic for she was completely at his mercy. However, if it was even possible, Isabella's fear grew when deep, emotionless eyes met hers. She had almost shrank away from intense yet icy gaze directed at her. Looking into his eyes felt as if being hit by the cold winds of winter.

Attempting to at least keep up an appearance of bravery, Isabella straightened her back, lifted her head high, and stared back at him with what she hoped was the same intensity.

In the next moment, her world turned upside down, and she found herself thrown over the shoulder of this dangerous, mysterious stranger.

Isabella thought she was surely going to throw up; she pounded her fists on his back; tried to tell him to stop, to put her down, but it came out more as a mumble, the cloth around her mouth still preventing her from speaking.

She raised her arms to untie the fabric around her mouth when she realised that she was no longer over the man's shoulder. Instead, she was hanging out of her window, held only by his arms which were pushed far away from his body.

Panic gripped her heart as her hands instantly flew towards the man, her fingers gripping into his shirt as she let out a whimper. If the man let her go, she would fall straight down towards her death.

Her grip on him tightened until her fists turned white. She pleaded him with her eyes, begged him not to do this.

However, her imploring was ignored, and in the next moment, she was falling.

* * *

 **Hahahaha… er sorry.**

 **Please don't forget to review! They really encourage me even if all you leave is a smiley face :)**

 **~Emerale**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry guys for the wait! New chapters are coming up soon, but as you may know from the previous AN, the other chapters are being edited so i'm going to be posting the edited chapters before i post new content. but don't worry... it's coming...**

 **Trigger warning: This chapter contains some elements of abuse. If you are not comfortable with it them please skip the chapter.**

 **Update: This chapter is now edited. From here onward, the chapters will all hopefully be edited. This is all thanks to my amazing beta -keeperofloglespy- who without fail manages to increases the quality of my chapters with her awesome editing.**

* * *

Isabella couldn't think. She couldn't feel anything other than the uncontrollable panic that had overwhelmed her senses.

From the moment she was let go, she knew that she had mere moments left of a very short-lived life. Though she knew there could be no way in which this could end without her body shattering against the ground, she still felt an instinctual need of self-preservation. Alas, the only tactic left was prayer; however, even this was too great a task for her mind to complete as sheer terror ruled it.

Despite the rapid speed at which she fell, her mind raced ever faster; images of her bloody broken body took over along with the hope that she would descend mercifully into oblivion soon after the fact rather than being forced to remain consciously aware of the physical agony.

Please, Lord, let it be quick, Isabella hoped.

The air rushed around her in quick beats, mocking her.

Tick tock, tick tock.

In mere seconds, she would be out of time.

Tick... Tock

Then, her breath was knocked out of her as her back came in contact with a rough surface.

No, it was not the ground she hit, for the surface gave slightly under her falling body.

What felt like two iron bars instantly enveloped and pulled her body towards an even rougher surface.

Still reeling from her free fall, Isabella couldn't make sense of her surroundings or what had happened.

Was she dead?

Upon hitting the surface that now supported her body, she had felt some discomfort but nowhere near what she should have been feeling after falling from that height. Upon remembering exactly where she had fallen from, Isabella's entire body shuddered in response. Her shaking intensified as cool, smooth air braided a soft breeze through her hair.

Her breaths were wild as she came to the disbelieving realization that she was alive and relatively unharmed.

Though she should have been relieved, Isabella couldn't keep the feeling of hysteria from creeping into her mind. Had her fall been slightly to the right or closer to the keep's wall... she would not be breathing. She had not merely been close to Death; his blade may as well have been caressing her neck. The slightest change to her fall's trajectory would have ensured her soul's departure from this world… a little too soon for her liking.

Having been too overwhelmed by the sheer shock of being alive, Isabella had yet to truly take in her surroundings. Now, however, she tentatively raised her face up only to meet a pair of striking blue eyes.

Isabella flinched in surprise as she realized how close her face was to the one that owned those blue eyes. With this new awareness, her mind was finally able to clear away some of the confusion from moments before; what she had previously thought to be iron bars were actually strong arms that had obviously caught her when she fell.

Perceiving this, the adrenaline from the near death experience left Isabella, causing her body to crumble into the stranger's arms- relief and exhaustion overtaking her. She didn't realize that she had closed her eyes again until her rescuer, if she could truly call him that, spoke.

"Open your eyes, sleeping beauty," a cheerful voice, whispered.

At that, Isabella's eyes snapped open again.

A young man with bright blue eyes and unruly dark hair smiled down at her. He was surely here with the barbarian from before. Yet, he wasn't as intimidating as his companion. In fact, his boyish face and twinkling eyes made him look quite amiable. Isabella instantly wiped that last thought away from her mind.

You only think him to be so because he saved your life, she scolded herself. He's still an accomplice to the man who threw you out of the window, putting your mortal life at risk. He's an enemy undeserving of any gratitude.

Isabella glared at the man who held her, not at all attempting to disguise her anger.

He chuckled in response, making Isabella even more furious.

You won't be laughing for long, she thought. Fear and anger gave her a quick burst of courage.

Not wanting to waste an opportunity where he seemed to underestimate her, Isabella paid no mind to the cloth still wrapped around her mouth. Instead, she curled her right hand into a fist, hurling it into side of the man's face as her left hand reached up into his hair to jerk his head back.

As the man yelled in surprise, Isabella kicked and jerked her body, managing to get her feet back on the ground as he reached up to grab the hand with which she had grabbed his hair.

As soon as she was standing on her own two feet, she twisted her left hand out of his grasp, leaned against his chest, and then dove sideways, putting all her weight behind the push.

The man stumbled forward, letting go of her completely.

Isabella fell to the ground with a painful thump. Rolling to her front, she was on to her knees and about to quickly pull the cloth down from her mouth, when she heard footsteps scurrying towards her.

There were more men than she originally thought. Her heart sunk with the realization that there would be no escaping them.

Isabella's mind shifted, trying to grasp some sort of reasoning that would explain the madness of this night. Why were these men so bent on kidnapping her? What purpose could she serve when no one was currently at war with her own?

Forgetting the gag, she managed to get to her feet when, what felt like bands of steel, clamped around her arms and pushed her back down to the ground.

Two large men grabbed her arms, twisting them behind her back.

Isabella clenched her eyes in pain, the hold on her arms unbearably tight.

"You can't get free now, can you?" The bulky man on her right whispered mockingly.

Isabella lifted her head to face him, her eyes burning with hatred. How dare these men treat her like this!

When the man grinned at something behind her, she turned her head. It was a dark night, yet she could still see faint outlines.

In addition to the two men holding her, there were another three leaning next to the wall of the keep. One of them was the man who had caught her; she couldn't see his face, but she hoped it was red from blood blush. It was only fair since the hand she had hit him with was throbbing.

She couldn't tell what the other two looked like; they weren't close enough for her make out anything other than their silhouettes. But even from that, she could tell they were very well built. All of them were.

"Fiery, isn't she?" Mused the man on her left.

Isabella wished she had managed to tear the gag from her mouth; she would have loved nothing more than to give them a piece of her mind.

Abruptly, he leaned down and grabbed her chin.

Isabella flinched but managed to stay still thereafter.

He turned her head sideways till his mouth almost brushed her ear.

"I wonder if I could get rid of that? How do you suppose I could do that, beauty?" He said slowly, his hard gaze fixed onto hers as his hold on her arm tightened.

Isabella's body went taut with tension as the implication behind his words sunk in.

No... No they can't. They won't!

Her face paled, and she felt felt her eyes growing wet as her body started trembling.

While it was obvious that these men had no qualms about cruelly mocking her precarious situation or leaving bruises that would ensure she could not escape their grasp, she hadn't thought them to be so ruthless as to taint her in the way this man might be implying.

But, why would they not? She thought. Wake up, Isabella! These men aren't respected lords of any courts or chivalrous knights. They're barbarians who have no care for a lady's honor or safety! One of them nearly killed you earlier. The fact that you're alive right now is only by the grace of God.

Realizing that though she had escaped death earlier, she could very well face horrors from these men that would make death seem merciful, Isabella struggled against her captors with renewed determination.

She had to escape.

She tried to pull her arms free; she screamed through her gag; she dropped her weight forward; but, nothing worked.

Her inability to bring even the slightest change to her situation devastated her. She was so tired, so exhausted.

Having depleted what little energy she had left, she could do nothing to fight back when her two captors shoved her face first into the grass.

Isabella stopped struggling, her body too weak to continue fighting.

I lose.

Physically and emotionally drained from the many battles she had faced since the moment she had been summoned to see Emmett earlier that day, she couldn't be strong anymore. Her emotional walls of defense lost support and crumbled as tears started to pour from her eyes.

Out of fear or hopelessness-she didn't know which-Isabella kept her head down against the cold, hard ground.

Do not let them see you cry.

She felt as if she was struggling to swim through colliding currents of fear and pain.

I'm drowning.

At the same time, she was disgusted with herself for being so weak, not only physically but also mentally. However, she still wished someone would come upon her in this pathetic state if only to rescue her from it, but knew it was pointless to hope. It was past midnight, and there were no guards doing rounds tonight. They would all be sleeping on the far side of the keep, no doubt in preparation for the morrow.

She heard the scuffle of leather as one of her captors stood, letting go of her arm; but, before Isabella could even muster the energy to attempt anything, she experienced the unmistakable feel of a hard boot colliding with her stomach.

Isabella let out a strangled scream. Her breathing became short and labored whilst her eyes watered.

In the back of her mind, a small voice told Isabella that perhaps she should be grateful that all she was getting was a kick to the stomach. For earlier when this man had initially spoken his vague threat, imaginings so much worse than a beating had passed through her thoughts.

Be thankful for small mercies, Isabella, she thought as she tried to find some good in this terrible ordeal.

"Dim witted, this one is." The man said through clenched teeth. "Still thinks she can get away," he chuckled patronizingly. As if to prove his superiority, he gave her another hard shove.

Isabella's body tensed at the contact, her position entirely too familiar to her.

Here I was so eager to escape Emmett, and now I find myself in the hands of another just like him, Isabella thought wearily through the pain. No, this man could possibly be even worse.

For she had known Emmett would never kill her. No, she was too precious a commodity to dispose of, especially with his political ambitions which would require alliances that could only be created through her marrying. Despite his obvious hatred of her, Isabella had always known that her brother would keep her alive.

Here, with this strange man, however, she had no such certainty.

"Stop it, Gavin," hissed someone from behind her. "You know if he finds out... sees what you're doing, he will surely kill you." The unfamiliar voice was quiet, yet, in the dead of the night, it sounded so much louder.

Gavin snorted disbelievingly.

Isabella felt herself being lifted from the ground. She very well knew that escape would be futile; nevertheless, she attempted to jerk away, determined to make things as difficult as possible for this man called Gavin.

Gavin swiftly grabbed hold of her arms and pulled Isabella towards him until their faces were mere inches apart. Certain that he would have scared her into submission, Gavin was about to comment on how weak willed she was when he saw her expression.

Or lack therefore.

Her face didn't show a pinch of intimidation or the slightest worry. Instead, her expression was hard and unforgiving. Deep brown eyes shot daggers at him.

A wave of anger washed through Gavin. He didn't like being defied, especially not by a woman.

"Why yo-," Gavin hissed as he raised his hand high.

Isabella flinched, her attempt to remain strong failing her.

However, just before his hand could make contact with her face, a strong, smooth, and commanding voice cut through the air like a knife.

"Gavin."

* * *

 **Hello! Sorry for the late, late post, I actually left this story but something just brought me back so I guess here you go :)** **Who do you think this mysterious person is? Friend or foe? Or maybe neither...**

 **P.s- This took me ages to write so please leave a review below 3**

 **-Emerale**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hiii guys! I'm so sorry for the late, late, lateeee update. I really am. College has started back up and with everything going on and studying i've found it so hard to find any time to write. But Chapter 6 is finally here. So please do enjoy it, and don't forget to drop a review! I always get so giddy reading them. They drive me on like nothing else, so thank you so much to all you reviewers- you guys have made my day countless times!**

 **I'll stop rambling now. See you at the end! :)**

Isabella's head whipped in the direction of the voice, her eyes widening with apprehension at the sight of her 'saviour'.

There, in the midst of shadows, under the dark cover of the night stood the man from earlier. The tall, devilish, copper haired man who had bound her and then threw her from her chamber window... This man had stopped another, who was clearly an ally, from hitting her. Yet, he was the reason that she needed saving.

 _Saviour_. Isabella scoffed at the thought.

Gavin, who still clutched her hair in his meaty fist, let out a short chuckle, but it didn't sound like it had before. It was now the nervous and controlled laugh of a worried man.

It was very interesting, she thought with a grimace, the grip on her hair still biting into her scalp vigorously. There seemed to be a hierarchy in play, and by Gavin's stiffened stance, she guessed it was her handsome kidnapper who was in charge.

She glanced back towards his direction and was surprised by the animosity present in his gaze. His eyes seemed to be burning with something fierce, but she was too far away to perceive the emotion.

Gavin must have seen the same thing since he suddenly let go of her hair and pushed her none too gently away from him as if to say, _I'm done with her._

Isabella landed on her front, her hands coming up at the last moment to break her fall.

Gavin took a step back from her and held his hands up in what appeared to be a jesting surrender since his grin remained plastered onto his face. "Ah, Edward, I didn't see you there. I was just te-", he never got to finish his sentence.

It happened so quickly; within a blink of an eye. At first it seemed as if it hadn't happened at all, as if her mind had conjured up the horrific image instead. But it hadn't. The arrow that prodded from Gavin's heart was very real, and so was its shooter. _Edward_.

Gavin stumbled back at the unexpected blow, his mouth open in disbelief, before he fell to the cold, hard ground. No breath left his lips, and his body lay unmoving.

Isabella froze, her eyes focused on the still body of the man who mere moments ago had been her assailant. At first, her mind refused to comprehend what it was seeing. However, the longer her gaze remained on Gavin's body-now his _corpse_ -the more the horror of the situation sank in.

 _Dead. He's dead._ Isabella closed her eyes shut. She quickly concentrated breathing through her nose, using what little strength she had left to keep herself from passing out.

 _Breathe in. Breathe out._

 _In. Out._

 _In. Out._

But she couldn't keep silent any longer. Her seemingly calm pattern broke as she let out a muffled terrified scream.

 _He's dead! Dead!_ The mantra continued to harshly blare through her head,

For the first time in her life Isabella saw a man die with her own eyes. There was blood. So much blood. It seemed to be everywhere.

A trail of the blood was slowly leaking away from the pool of scarlet, making its way towards her; as if realising her revulsion of it and wanting to ask why she was afraid.

She watched the trickling blood with a crazed fascination, her own blood draining from her face. The blood was almost onto her now but she made no move to shift away. She stayed still as the night. And then just before it caressed her skirts, Isabella jerked away. Away from the blood and away from that dark place in her mind which wanted to cradle her thoughts.

She started crying. She was _terrified._ Through the midst of her tears she saw Edward advancing towards Gavin.

His strides were of a man confident of his every action, his every word, his every glance. He looked so powerful and just as indestructible as he strode towards the dead man by her feet.

Fifteen steps became twelve and then fewer and fewer. He was almost onto Gavin now. _Four ...three ...two_ and he suddenly shifted.

He was coming towards _her._

His arms suddenly shot out, attempting to grasp her shoulders. Isabella recoiled from his nearness; jerking away from his touch. She mindlessly scrambled away from him. Her knees painfully scraping the floor in her hurry to get away from him.

Her breaths came out in short panicked gasps. Her eyes wild like a doe's as she stared into the eyes of a _murderer._

He stood frozen half bent over her form. His eyes searching hers, as if he was trying to figure her out. He must have seen something on her face, in her eyes for his face hardened even more. His cold eyes assessed her pitiful state on the floor.

With her hair unravelled all around her shoulders in a wild mess and her face muddied up from the earlier manhandle, the young women at his feet seemed to be at her last straw. Her chest rose and fell with her every gasping breath she took and her eyes sparkled with tears, with fear and with such courage that Edward was taken aback by the short albeit, sharp admiration he felt.

She half lay and half sat, leaning on her forearms behind her. Her sole focus on him. As it should be. After all, he wasn't a man that should be lightly taken.

He dropped down to the floor in one swift motion, his left knee digging into the women's- _Isabella's_ \- skirts pinning her to the ground, his right hand on her other side, caging her.

Her eyes widened with fear and her reaction was just as swift.

Like you'd expect a deer to bolt at the sound of a hunting party, she too jerked away from him with such vigour Edward was left wondering where she found the strength from.

She had been fighting him and his men throughout the entire ordeal and he knew she had seen the many men he had bought along and hadn't yet seen the many, _many_ other men just within a hundred yards of him; hiding in the foliage. But surely she must have realised that she didn't stand a chance. She was a small women with no prior experience when it came to fighting.

Hell, he could have taken her on in his sleep.

He couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at that thought, his mind wandering too far from the task at hand. But the laugh was entirely humourless. It was dark and hollow.

Isabella started at the stranger who had her trapped. He leaned over her with a predatory gaze in his eyes, as if daring his meek little lamb to bite him; to snap at him. Just so he could snap back, bite back harder.

Isabella felt her lip tremble but she refused to look away from his face, no matter how much he had frightened her. _Was_ frightening her.

She saw him glanced down to her gagged mouth with an unreadable expression but she didn't get long to think on what it was. Because he suddenly shifted his knee off her skirts; freeing her.

 _This was her chance! She needed to roll away from him, kick him in the shin or arm and-_

And then he grabbed her skirts, lifting them up slightly until her calves were exposed to the surroundings. Isabella let out a frightened gasp and gave a swift kick at the hand grabbing at her. She didn't think she could tremble any harder but she did.

The man didn't flinch at her struggles. He lifted her dress higher till even her knees meet the breeze. Isabella shut her eyes tightly, refusing to acknowledge what she perceived was going to happen next.

But what she didn't expect was for him to rip off a huge strip of fabric from her dress hem and then let the dress fall back just above her knees. Still in shock, Isabella could do nothing but watch as Edward leaned over her once again and grabbed both of her wrists in one of a forceful pull he propelled her forward -closer to him- till his breath kissed hers.

He grabbed the piece of fabric in his hand and expertly wound it around both of her wrists in a makeshift rope. He locked his stormy green eyes with hers and whispered something so quietly that she almost didn't hear. Something she didn't think she was suppose to hear.

"Checkmate, Emmett."

 **MHMMHM…!**

 **What do you think Edwards reasons are for kidnapping Isabella…? Hint: the last line…**

 **What do you think about the death of Gavin? Did he deserve it? Does it really make Edward a bad guy?**

 **Drop down your thoughts, feelings, questions or answers in the review box! I look forward to reading them! 3**

 **-Emerale**


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